


Tete-a-tete

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, London-era, M/M, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Private Conversations, Yearning, private moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: For the polyshipping prompt: flinthamiltons-Thomas and Miranda discuss the pretty new Liaison.





	Tete-a-tete

 

“So what do you think of him?” Miranda’s still in the process  of removing her gloves and untying her cape, handing them over to the butler with a smile. “Tea, please, George, and thank you.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Thomas still hasn’t looked up from his book.

“Thomas?”

“Mm?” He places a fingertip between the pages of his book, and she half sighs. It’s clear he doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’s talking about and she doesn’t understand how he doesn’t! He had mentioned the new liaison of course, the first day he’d met the man but all she’d gathered from that was Thomas expected there to be trouble with the assignment.

“He’s extremely well-educated for a midshipman, it’s absurd.”

At the time Miranda had been amused. Now she wants to know what he meant by that remark.

“Lt. James McGraw.” She accentuates the name and doesn’t miss the twitch in Thomas’s fingers when he realizes just who exactly they’re speaking of.

“Ah,” He sits up, putting his book aside, not even bothering to mark his place. “Yes.”

Miranda moves to the fireplace. She’s already heard George in the hall with the tea tray. Though their servants are remarkably discreet, she doesn’t like to put them under an undue burden either. She waits until George sets the tray down and goes back out before turning to face her husband.

Thomas gazes back at her with a curious expression. “What did you make of him?”

“I asked first.” Miranda counters. She moves to the tray but Thomas beats her to pouring, handing her a cup just the way she likes, milk, a dribble of lemon.

She thanks him and sits down, still waiting for an answer. The sunshine is so bright today, straining through the windows, the fire seems hardly necessary. But the spring air is cool enough that she knows she’d feel a chill if there was no fire at all. She takes a sip of tea, still waiting.

“I find him unexpected.” Thomas says at last, and now there’s a frown filling his usually lovely, smooth brow. Frowns do not suit her husband, and Miranda wonders if the lieutenant will be a constant source of irritation in the future. She hopes not.

“Unexpected is certainly one way to describe him.” She murmurs. “Fascinating is another. Handsome definitely a third.”

“Would you say he’s handsome?” Thomas says with extreme innocence, looking for all the world as though the notion has never even crossed his mind.

“Oh my dear, I think we both know perfectly well he is handsome.”

At that Thomas grins and finally takes a sip from his own cup. “I merely wanted to hear you say it first.”

“Cheater.” Miranda laughs.

Thomas laughs as well, but it fades far too quickly. He glances down, studying his cup carefully. “Miranda…”

“What is it?” She keeps her tone light, aware that it’s new ground beneath their feet, even though the path is somewhat familiar. They’ve shared lovers before. It’s often easier that way, but somehow, she already knows that James McGraw is different. With him it will be no half-hearted venture. There’s a possibility it will require everything, and perhaps more.

She wonders if Thomas is thinking of that as well, and that is why he hesitates.

He shakes his head finally, not willing to voice whatever doubt was troubling him, and so Miranda voices it instead . “Let us tread carefully then, my love, until we have the full measure of Lt. McGraw.’

Thomas agrees and they continue having tea, the conversation turning to other things, though the young liaison is never far from either of their thoughts.

 

 *  *  *

 

One evening the lieutenant finally agreed to accept an invitation to tea.

Which was less an invitation to tea, and more of a subterfuge of an invitation to an early evening party, Miranda admits later. She’d considered having the man simply to tea, but had decided against it. Perhaps later, when they were more well acquainted.

Once the party was underway however, Miranda realizes almost instantly that the idea was a mistake. She’d thought it would be more comfortable in a crowd, less likely to make the man feel as though he were singled out for some special attention but now McGraw looks as though he would rather be strung up by his ankles rather than here in their drawing room. He stands at the end of the room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he surveys the rest of the guests, an air of unreachability surrounding him.

“For heavens sake, go rescue him.” She nudges Thomas who’s passing her just then.

He follows her gaze and pauses. “Do you think that wise?”

“I think it necessary.” She says firmly. “Tell him you have a matter of the admiralty that cannot wait and you can always return to the party afterwards.”

“If you’re sure,” Thomas hesitates still, not out of unwillingness, but because perhaps he’s eager enough to get the liaison alone again, because he desires that very thing withheld in a company of this size, the man’s intimate presence.

“Go.” Miranda commands again, prodding him gently with her fan.

She watches, sipping her sherry as Thomas makes his way over the lieutenant. McGraw stands stiffly at first, still on guard, still clearly uncomfortable as Thomas leans in to speak with him, but then there’s a release of tension abruptly as Thomas nods towards the hall, a sense of relief about his shoulders as he follows Thomas out.

At the doorway though he pauses and looks back, catching her eye across the room. There’s an unmistakable look of recognition there. He knows exactly what Miranda has done for him, and what’s more he accepted the gesture. He nods slightly and then goes after Thomas.

That look sends a slight flush of pleasure through Miranda, though she’s not entirely sure why. It was a simple enough gesture, one she would have done for anyone uncomfortable and needing an escape. But all the same, it wasn’t something she could simply dismiss either.

The party is still extremely pleasant, as parties go, but Miranda is bored by it nonetheless. She wishes she hadn’t gotten it so wrong, and they’d just had the lieutenant to tea instead. Next time, she decides, that is what will happen. Next time, well, they’ll see what happens.

She thinks about following them to Thomas’s study after a suitable amount of time, telling them to leave their work and come back to the party. In any other situation, she would be doing precisely that, but not here. Not when she purposely sent them away.

 

*  *  *

 

The party is dwindling down, the last few guests taking their leave as she makes excuses for Thomas’s absence, when she hears them in the hall.

Thomas moves forward to say farewell to the guest about to depart, and Miranda turns to find the lieutenant standing there, looking at her thoughtfully. She has never seen such deep mercurial green eyes as his. They are quite arresting, and she wonders if he would ever let himself be sketched.

“Thank you.” the lieutenant murmurs.

“It was nothing,” Miranda offers her hand and he takes it, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. Long enough for her to register the heat in his skin, even through the glove she’s wearing.

“Thank you.” He says again, pressing his lips to the back of her hand, his head lowered enough as he does, that she can see the neatly combed waves of his auburn hair, an attempt to make himself suitable for such an occasion as this. Miranda has an urge to reach for those locks, to free his hair from its queue, and him from his constraints that society has placed there, binding him so neatly in place.

But he straightens up, and she draws her hand away. There will be other moments, other days, other opportunities, she knows. She watches as he goes over to Thomas, speaking briefly with him before turning towards the door. Thomas’s hand rests on his shoulder for the briefest of touches, but Miranda watches it nonetheless.

She joins Thomas at the door, watching as the lieutenant goes down the steps.

“What did you find to talk about?” She knows it’s not really important, they all know it was an excuse, but she’s still curious.

“You, mostly.” Thomas’s arm slips around her and Miranda leans into its comfortable embrace. “He wanted to know how I had managed to marry such a perceptive woman.”

Miranda laughs, her eyes still on the figure of the lieutenant striding away down the street. “Did you tell him it was pure luck?’

“I told him I was very fortunate indeed.” Thomas murmurs. “He seemed to agree with me.”

“What man wouldn’t?”

Thomas chuckles and brushes her hair with his lips. “Come, let’s go inside. The air is growing colder.”

“All right.” Miranda agrees, but her gaze still lingers on the lieutenant until he’s out of sight. Only then does she follow Thomas and close the heavy oak door to the outside world. For a moment she stands there, letting her mind wander back over the evening’s events, the way the lieutenant had held her hand, the warmth that still lingered in her hand even now.

“Something entirely unexpected.” She thinks. “Though not unwelcome.”

She goes back into the drawing room and settles beside Thomas on the divan, watching the fire burn down into the night.

 


End file.
